


And If There's Any Doubt of My {insert noun} For You

by Foophile



Category: Battlestar Galactica 2003
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, F/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:52:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foophile/pseuds/Foophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Galactica was set to be decommissioned before the apocalypse, they’d closed off most of the small officers’ conference rooms and some officers’ quarters, mechanically locking them from the inside. It was only Tyrol’s loose tongue that spilled the access codes to unlock a few of them over a late night game of triade two years ago and Kara had kept the knowledge at the back of mind, maybe in anticipation of the future use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And If There's Any Doubt of My {insert noun} For You

**Author's Note:**

> BSG and the related characters are not mine.

If there’s one thing about having an affair that one can feel completely guilt-free about, it’s kinky sex.

The sex, and really the whole sordid fact of the affair is something to be condemned for – what with the lying and the breaking of the vows and the sinning (yada yada, all bad stuff there) -, but whilst living comfortably or uncomfortably in infidelity, it can be expected and even encouraged that because one is already outside of the bounds of propriety the having of sex outside of marriage can be crazy kinky mainly because…well, why the hell not?

They’re already having a frakking affair.

Kara reckons all of this as she rushes through the halls of the Galactica at 0257. She’s early for meeting with Lee for the first time because she skipped her routine shower after CAP and her thighs are sticking together with sweat.

She forces herself to slow down though there are very few people in the halls just to appear as if she isn’t in a hurry, but her heart is beating like she’s just finished a run from one end of the ship to the other. She’s excited for this. Maybe more so than she’s been since Lee kissed her months ago, Kara’s face still bloody from his punches.

There’s a quick turn at the start of hanger 10, then another at the join of decks 4A and 4B, and then a straight shot for the neglected conference room at the end of the hall.

Since Galactica was set to be decommissioned before the apocalypse, they’d closed off most of the small officers’ conference rooms and some officers’ quarters, mechanically locking them from the inside. It was only Tyrol’s loose tongue that spilled the access codes to unlock a few of them over a late night game of triade two years ago and Kara had kept the knowledge at the back of mind, maybe in anticipation of the future use.

The loud click of the door lock deactivating causes her to glance over her shoulder quickly before she ducks into the dark depths, but the silence that greets her worries her even more.

The room, with its metal chairs bolted to the floor around a wide octagonal table in the center, looks deserted. The smell is stale as it is every time they meet there after a few days, the dust having time to settle before they rustle it up again.

Kara’s nervously checks her watch.

Lee’s never been late. But she wonders if for the first time she’s asked too much of him – even when faced with the evidence of how far he’s already been willing to go.

She’s turning to leave, hoping to find him in the hall on the way, when there’s a telling rustle in the corner, the only warning she has before there’s someone behind her tossing a blindfold over her eyes before they (Lee, of course, she rationalizes in less than a second) tie it tight at the back of her head.

Lee pulls her down a bit when he wraps his arm around her neck, not forcefully, but just holding her there against his chest as if he wants to reassure her of his identity. With him pressed to her back there’s no way to mistake the hard body and soft hair brushing her face or his familiar smell, the slightly plastic tang of their flight suits mixed with his musky aftershave.

She’s subdued in seconds, but it feels like hours before he actually speaks: “Thought I’d surprise you but I didn’t expect you’d try to leave so soon.”

His teasing alto skates down her nerves, smooth and playful, the way he only is with her.

Her whole body shivers with expectation and she can’t bite back her smile. “I didn’t think you were here.”

“You’re not the only trained solider on this ship, Kara. I can sneak with best of them.” He leaves the arm (barely) restraining her where it is, more of a comfort than a threat, while the other strokes down her side to relieve her of her gun holster. It drops to the ground with a heavy clang. “And I’ll always come,” he finishes, managing to mix sincerity with innuendo.

His knowing hand slips down and cups her groin, bypassing the posturing. Kara grits her teeth at the frustrating pressure. She feels as if she’s so wet that Lee must feel it through her pants and she tries to shift against his palm only to have the arm around her shoulder clamp down the slightest bit.

She endures the touch for one minute, two, but when no further movement comes, she fidgets in his arms. “So what-…”

Lee cuts her off with an aggravating, “Shh.” Then pushes her forward with his chest.

She stumbles blindly; putting her arms out in front of her, playing along because she knows that if she struggles Lee will let her go in a second and really not wanting to end the playful mood she rarely sees from him.

She sputters out a laugh when he bumps her into the leg of one of the table chairs and apologizes for it under his breath. He’s still the same courteous Lee underneath it all but more than willing to break a few rules in the right circumstances.

The tops of Kara’s thighs hit something hard, very hard, and when he removes his retraining arm to push her torso down onto what is very obviously the conference table, she figures that these are definitely the right circumstances.

The table is cold, even through her tanks, and she rests her hot cheek against the surface, moaning when Lee teases her further, pushing the hand that’s squashed between her body and the table up and back so that her ass is in the air and there’s the pressure of her own weight against her cunt.

She braces her front against the table with her forearms, trying to push back, get some friction, and can hear his low chuckle. She can’t see anything, the light of the room barely filters in through the blindfold but she can imagine his smirk, quick and dirty, his eyes calculating and knowing exactly how turned on she already is by all of this. And they haven’t even removed their clothing.

She licks her lips when she realizes that he hasn’t even kissed her yet.

The clothing issue is quickly remedied when he removes his hot hand away from her, causing Kara to groan unhappily, and makes quick work of unbuckling her pants, pulling them along with her panties down to her knees. She reflexively bucks her exposed pelvis from the chilled table, pushing her ass further into the air and Lee’s scrutiny.

“Gods, Kara,” Lee hisses behind her, his presence merely a vague warmth on the back of her thighs. “I wish you could see yourself.”

Kara’s trembling a little bit now, her heartbeat pounding through her throat and chest. She’s somewhat surprised at how vulnerable she feels, how she’s torn between the uncertainty of what may come next (because she’s always been about control) and the absolute faith she has in Lee.

The prolonged quiet of all of this is killing her and she knows that Lee must be aware of that.

They’ve always been noisy lovers; knocking over things that were most of the time breakable, pumping into doors that then banged against bulkheads, and panting breaths between smacking kisses. Kara especially hasn’t cared for quiet sex, she’s believes in voicing her pleasure and sometimes displeasure as loudly as she frakking wishes – thin hulls be damned.

But this quiet adds to the intensity of what they’re doing. Kara feels as if she’s practically vibrating, she so eager for Lee’s touch or kiss or…anything. Plus, her ass is getting cold.

“Lee,” she mumbles against the back of her hand, wondering briefly when she curled her hands into fists in front of her mouth. Apparently, even her subconscious doesn’t believe that she could stay silent.

There’s the sound of rustling cloth behind her and her senses go on alert at a swift rush of air. Her body tenses expecting something, but when there’s no more sign of movement she relaxes after a few seconds and that’s when the first blow comes.

The smack is right in the meaty flesh of her right butt cheek and Kara lets out a surprised yelp at the quick flash of pain that accompanies it. It hurts! Gods, Lee’s not holding back and she barely has the chance to recover before another comes quickly in its wake, this time a little lower and closer to the thin skin that joins her ass to the top of her thigh.

Lee’s well into his third strike when a thought rips through her brain: Lee Adama, former buttoned-up Commander and stuff shirt extraordinaire, is spanking her ass on a table in an abandoned conference room.

And while it hurts – “Ouch! Lee, you frakker.” – she would strangle him right now with her bare hands if he dared to stop.

“This is what you wanted,” Lee says, not asks, switching up his striking points so that he hits the very rise of her ass then the outside dip, never the same spot twice. He’s winded with the effort, the sound of his breath rivaled only by the alluring smack of his palm as it meets her ass.

Kara’s gasps of pain transform into moans. Her body melting into silly putty on the table. Each slap ratchets up her excitement, is transmuted into pleasure just by the simple fact of who’s doing the smacking. She’s arching into every blow, wanting it - the pain, the heat, his touch. All of it.

Her cunt is throbbing with inattention while her ass is slowly going numb. It’s exactly the freeing, uncontrolled, intense feeling that she wanted, all that and more.

When Lee finally stops she’s whimpering and sweaty. Every panting breath pushes her hard nipples into the surface of the table, completely unfulfilling through the layers of her tanks, but even that touch is enticing. Gods, she wants him to frak her so bad and she says so without shame.

Lee slaps his hands, palms hot and tingly, on her ass in a half-spank and half-grope. His voice is rough as if it’d been scraped against the side of the ship.

“I’ll frak you if you say it first.”

Kara smiles into her hands. She shifts her hips against his fingers just to feel the nails dig in a bit to keep her still.

Her hand trembles when she relaxes her fist and puts her palm flat against the warmed table. Kara flirts with teasing him, daring him to make her, but then he shifts pulling her back a step into the cradle of his body.

His bared chest is against her back, flat stomach still heaving from his efforts, and hard cock nestled perfectly, wonderfully, into the crack of her flushed, burning ass. Lee’s sweaty thighs are tense coils against her own, he’s so ready for it, weeping for it if the slickness on her ass is any indication, and Kara can’t think of any reason to prolong the inevitable.

She says clearly and with all her heart, “I love Lee Adama.”


End file.
